


My Last Name

by KatherineBlackwell



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:40:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineBlackwell/pseuds/KatherineBlackwell
Summary: One lonely night in Las Vegas turns into something more than our Hero’s bargained for. Reveal fic and aged up.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	My Last Name

(Adrien) 

Shuffling.

That was the first thing he heard- other than the pounding in his head and a faint buzzing noise. Not the digging and shoving sounds that he normally heard when he was at home with his kwami. 

No, this was quiet and rushed.

As if someone was trying not to wake him. He groaned, signaling his presence, which only earned him a gasp from his guest. A very female gasp. His lips curled into a smile on default. 

Adrien Agreste lifted his head, the room spinning as he peeked into the bright light pouring through open curtains— which, in hindsight, was a bad idea. If he didn’t have a headache before, he did now. Blurred vision watched as a dark haired figure in a bright red sleeveless dress turned the corner. Seconds later, the distant sound of the suite front door closing echoed through the penthouse. Now that was unusual.

As a high end fashion model for his father’s company, Adrien often found it difficult to get women out of his hotel room after a night out. Especially after nights that left him feeling like he had been beaten with a bag of oranges, or a bag of akumas in his superhero persona’s case. So, his curiosity was piqued, but he would worry about that later. Right now, he needed a shower and a Tylenol. And for his phone to stop buzzing. 

Adrien forced himself into an upright position and peeked around his room. Yes, this was his hotel room. Thank god. He’s done that rodeo too but Plagg has done a good job since then of keeping him in line. 

His sneakers from yesterday’s gym visit in the far corner confirmed that for him, as well. At the foot of his bed was a black rectangular marble pillar with flecks of gold and white that separated the Bedroom from the living area. In the pillar housed a flat screen television inside it. He turned on the television for background noise and grabbed his cell phone to see a familiar number flash across the screen. He groaned and answered it, going to the restroom for a much needed piss. 

“Your father wants to see you. Immediately.” The cold female voice announced before the line clicked.

“Good morning to you too, Natalie.” He barked at the phone in his hand. Bitch.

He did his business and headed to the shower, dropping his phone into his suitcase as he passed by it. He made extra sure to take as long as he pleased in the shower. Once done, he went back to his suitcase, towel hung loosely around his hips, to dig around for some clothes to see Plagg there. With his phone and jaw dropped, big green eyes wide in horror.

“Plagg?”

The little cat god flinched- if that was possible at all for his kitten sized form. “Kid… you screwed up.” He handed Adrien the phone, speaking plainly. 

Adrien, nearly dropped his phone, once he saw the screen. Shit. 

(Marinette)

“GUUUUUUURL!!” 

A very hungover woman winced in the penthouse suite hallway of the Delano Las Vegas hotel. Marinette Dupain-Cheng spent several minutes pacing the front of the hotel before making this agonizing call. Her blue-black hair hung loosely around her shoulders, her Asian features grim as she walked away from the hot mess in that hotel room. “Alya, please.” She begged her best friend in another part of the world, rubbing her forehead as Alya’s face finally showed up on FaceTime. “Not now.”

“Yes, girl. Now. Have you seen the news?” Her best friend rambled off, as if not hearing her plea. “You’re famous!”

Marinette halted in her tracks, bright blue eyes narrowing at her cell phone screen. “I’m wha-?” She asked timidly, still drunk-processing Alya’s words. 

Alya rolled her hazel eyes, resting her hand against her wavy reddish brown ombré locks. “I figured you would be excited, considering how the news came out last night.”

Alya Cesaire, everyone. About as subtle as a train wreck on a boat. She thought to herself. “Alya, please. Just get to the point.” She begged, a small whine in her voice and not in the mood for guessing games. She decided that the confines of a hallway were not private enough for the conversation she was about to have. 

Marinette heard a deep sigh. “Let me guess, you’re completely oblivious to the fact that you are married? To the Agreste heir of all people?” She said flatly. “I knew you were on the fence about the whole marriage thing to your fiancé, but this is a whole new level!!”

That had Marinette’s attention, as last night slowly came back to her. She felt her face morph from confusion to absolute horror. Oh no, this was more than just a marriage. “This is an absolute nightmare.” She finally said, leaning against the wall for support. She began processing in her mind just how bad this could be. “How many people know?” She dreaded the answer, the fingers of her free hand gripping her hair tightly. 

“Everyone.” Alya confirmed. 

“Including….”

“Everyone, Marinette.”

Marinette felt the blood drain from her face as her body sagged to the hallway floor. “No…” She whined, hand covering her mouth and finally feeling the weight of the burden on her finger. Holy shit, that ring is big! She thought, somewhere in the back of her mind as she examined it briefly. 

Her parents would kill her, not to mention the extended family would be very disappointed with her. They were expecting a marriage but not one to a playboy model who was an heir to a fashion empire! For a moment, she considered going back to the hotel room and demanding a divorce from the playboy in question. Actually, she would. As soon as she finished her conversation with her best friend. 

“Also, girl.” Alya’s voice turned serious, which had Marinette’s undivided attention immediately. Uh oh. “We need to talk.” 

“Uh-huh…?” Marinette’s voice was soft and whimpery- still lost in her own internal hell. Oh god, what now? 

“When were you going to tell me you were Ladybug?”


End file.
